


Roman Holiday

by HamishMcCat



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamishMcCat/pseuds/HamishMcCat
Summary: "Come on, Angel! A work sanctioned Roman holiday! Wine, gelato, pizza, art, books! Guaranteed seeing you."  The demon added with a wink.It is time to elect a new pope and the Papal Conclaves mean a certain angel and demon get to spend so time together in Rome.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Roman Holiday

The late summer sun was streaming into the bedroom from the open window and the fresh breeze was bringing in the enticing smell of the neighbors' cooking. 

It was an idyllic afternoon but Aziraphale refused to smile as he unpacked items from his leather bag. 

Smiling under the circumstances would unangelic. 

It was hard not to though. This was one of his favorite places on earth. The small villa was truly a necessity after 1268's three year long fiasco when simply renting a room was no longer and option. 

While finding a dwelling was a necessity, finding the perfect little piece of Rome was not. But here he was. 

Aziraphale truly loved this villa. It took weeks of searching to find, but when one is six months into what will ultimately be a three year ordeal, one has time to be picky. 

It had everything Aziraphale could want. The small garden was lush and vibrant with a stone fountain that quietly trickled and attracted song birds. There was a modest library that over the subsequent three centuries has become increasingly packed with Aziraphale's books. There was even a small reading nook that overlooked the garden. There was an office with a large desk for completing reports. The few rooms and hallways were decorated with beautiful landscape painting and in the entryway hung a sketch of Leonardo's the Mona Lisa that many would argue was superior to the final painting. The bedroom had a ridiculously large bed made up in rich deep green linens and curtains to keep out the early morning light and the warmth in on cool nights. The balcony off the bedroom faced Vatican City and allowed a view of any smoke that may rise from it's rooftops. 

He looked around the space and sighed. It really was perfect. 

The tranquility of he thoughts was shattered by a wall shaking bang at the front door. 

In an instant, Aziraphale was standing at the railing of the landing looking down into the entryway. The front door had been kicked in and was still swinging on its hinges. 

"Papal Conclave!!!" Crowley shouted at the top of his lungs into the villa, then turned to slam the front door shut with a booted foot. He pushed his dark glasses up into his shoulder length wavy copper hair and looked up at Aziraphale. 

"Caio, Angel" Crowley lowered his voice to a softer, more intimate level. 

"Caio, mio caro."

"Papal conclave!" Crowley shouts again. 

"Yes, I think the whole neighborhood heard you." Aziraphale struggled to keep the smile out of his voice as Crowley bounded up the tiled stairs, taking two at a time, his black linen bag slung over his shoulder and bouncing with each step. 

As soon as he is in reach Crowley snatched both of Aziraphale's hands in his. 

"Come on, Angel! A work sanctioned Roman holiday! Wine, gelato, pizza, art, books! Guaranteed seeing you." The demon added with a wink. 

"Please Crowley, show some decorum. We are here because a man  _ died _ ." Aziraphale tugged his hands out of Crowley's grasp. "There is a gaping hole of power. People are rioting, and the decisions made here are going to affect so many lives. It is important that we are here." Aziraphale fixed Crowley with a hard stare, but then it softened and he looked away. "Besides, these usually only last a few days."

Crowley exhaled deeply. "Pssssshhhh. We are here because a  _ terrible _ man died. Really, Angel, you know what he did. The inquisitions, the ghettos, the censoring of art and books. Honestly, half your collection in the library downstairs are titles off the  _ Index Librorum Prohibitorum _ ."

Aziraphale pursed his lips, refusing to either confirm or deny Crowley's completely true statements. He followed at Crowley's heels as the demon sauntered into the bedroom and threw himself across the ludicrously over-sized bed, chucking his bag into the corner of the room. 

“You and I both know,” Crowley continued, “that it doesn’t matter one bit whether we are here or not. I, for one, am going to sit back, see what happens, throw a wile or two around, and see if maybe I can find  _ someone _ to try and thwart me, you know, to look good on my report.” 

Aziraphale let out a small hum of disapproval and went back to the task of unpacking that Crowley's dramatic entrance had interrupted. 

“And as for a few days, the way the French and the Spanish are fighting, this may take a while. I think I might be able to help draw this out to a month or two.” Crowley intoned with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

Aziraphale’s eyes darted to Crowley’s. He schooled his features quickly, but not fast enough to keep Crowley from seeing the glimmer of hope in his eyes. The prospect of two months with Crowley in their Roman villa was almost too much to hope for. 

“Do you really think it will take months?” Asked Aziraphale, trying his best to sound indifferent. 

“Oh yeah. The French haven’t even arrived yet. They may have run into...” Crowley waved his hand like he was trying to think of the right word, “...some difficulties on their journey.”

“Crowley, you didn’t!” Aziraphale practically shouted as he dropped the book he had just unpacked onto the floor with a thud. 

“Nothing serious.” Crowley held up both hands in a placating gesture. “They will be here soon, just a little late.”

Aziraphale huffed as he bent down the retrieve his book. Once it was safely on the mattress he crossed his arms across his chest. Crowley leaned back putting his hands behind his head, smirking at his own cleverness. 

“And what, my dear, is going to keep the Spanish from putting someone through in the absence of the French?”

Crowley sat up and smiled at Aziraphale. 

“You, of course! Clearly there's demonic work involved. See a wile, gotta thwart it.” 

Aziraphale paused in the act of folding a tunic to consider. “I suppose that would look good on my paperwork. And it would keep things fair.” He finally conceded. 

Crowley bounced onto his knees and scooted so that he and Aziraphale were face to face. He took the tunic from Aziraphale’s hands. “That’s the spirit Angel.”

Aziraphale reached to take the tunic back and continued his unpacking. Crowley frowned, still unable to bring a smile to the angel's face. 

“Look, Aziraphale, I like it as much as the next demon when someone destined for my side is in that position of power, but that guy was the worst, really. This time around I promise we will nudge it towards someone who isn't inclined to go around breaking the penises off of priceless statues, okay?”

Crowley was rewarded with a small smile. 

“Okay.”

“Good.” Crowley took Aziraphale's face in his hands and kissed the angel gently on the forehead. “You finish your unpacking and meet me in the garden when you're done.”

Crowley hopped down from the bed and swaggered towards the bedroom door. 

“What about your unpacking?” Aziraphale asked the demon over his shoulder. 

“All done.” Crowley replied as he snapped.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. That really was a frivolous miracle. He thought Crowley was lucky that Hell didn't pay as close attention to miracle usage as Heaven. 

“When you're all done I figured we'll head down the Piazza and maybe stop by that cafe on the corner you love so much.”

Crowley didn't need to put any demonic temptation behind his words. Aziraphale's face lit up. 

“The one that makes that delightful little salad?”

“That's the one. Hurry up, Angel, and we can get going.”

Aziraphale looked down at his bag, back over to Crowley, and back to his bag with a small sigh. Though he was no longer looking at the demon, Crowley could sense the pout. 

“All you had to do was ask.” Crowley said, and with a snap of his fingers the bag in front of Aziraphale was empty. 

Aziraphale turned and smiled. He hurried over and grabbed the demon by the hand and lead him down the stairs, out their front door, and into the city. 

~*~

The papal conclave of 1559 lasted a little over three months and ended with the election of Pope Pius IV on Christmas Day. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think my coworkers might have thought it a little strange that I was suddenly spending a lot of time researching Papal Conclaves in order to find the perfect one to set my story around. I am no papal expert by any stretch, just a Wikipedia user. Pope Paul IV, who died in 1559, really was terrible, and the Papal Conclave that elected Pope Pius IV went from 5 September to Christmas Day 1559. The longest Papal Conclave was from November 1268 to September 1271.
> 
> The idea for this was based on a Tumblr post I saw a while ago and can no longer find that Aziraphale and Crowley get to enjoy a work sanctioned holiday every time it is time to elect a new pope. If anyone knows the post I am talking about, please link it in the comments so I can give credit.
> 
> Edit: Inspired by the Tumblr post by KitCat Italica!  
> https://kitcat-italica.tumblr.com/post/187758421513/hell-would-probably-try-to-influence-papal


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